


It's this time of the year

by Shimruto



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Fighting, and they triggered me more when i recalled that vcr where they are black and white, because here i put rather dark thoughts of my own, because this is my personal rant, but they are mentioned only like two times?, for my personal mess, so some dark trigger warnings?, so they are partialy guilty for me tagging them in here, that i needed to scream out into some void
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 05:34:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shimruto/pseuds/Shimruto
Summary: Because if you give demons the names - they are not demons anymore.





	It's this time of the year

**Author's Note:**

> it's not even close to any homin story - so i am sorry if you came for the boys only. this is my rant wrapped in a cover of a strange monologue. i really was handling myself so great today until i saw that vcr where they were fighting as black and white and the whole subtext... IT HIT ME SO HARD on what i was digesting at that mess of a moment and the words started to flood me while i was walking home for 40 mintues straight and i NEEDED to let this out because it also seems that after starting writing i find myself rather unable to shut down these... thoughts and ideas until i literally give them life on paper... electronic paper... 
> 
> anyway! after finishing this piece i decided to put it in some place where i can return and remind myself of some things when the time comes in the future.
> 
> it is not a particular dark territory that i find myself right now (actually after writing it i feel so much lighter and finally sorted it out). But it is very much real that there are some days in the year when i completely can't concentrate on anything positive or mundane. no matter what i try to do, it just sticks and itches me insanely. this feeling passes - or rather i let it pass while managing the mess in my own developed way. idk if you ever experienced this kind of feeling but well... here i am - just giving my pov on this whole unexplained territory of our mind and how some people handle life(?) feat. the two seconds participation of the boys' sometimes not-so-perfectly-timed deep bond showcase.

It's this time of the year.

 

This damn time of the year

When you are facing the worst opponent in the world in the war that lasts decades. The war that will never cease. Because the opponent is always there and you can’t kill him and can’t win him and can’t get rid of him.

The worst enemy of your life.

 

_Yourself._

The most bloody and cunning _other you._ Praying on you at every moment they feel like their cage is shaken or got one bar taken out by an accident or by the “helpers” around.

This might be a very expected moment.

Or the most unexpected.

When you are at your lowest of your life and don’t have any strength to hold _yourself_ in.

When you are the happiest and let the feelings and love intensify the reality around, simultaneously letting that _beast_ crush the loosened door.

And here it is. Came for your blood. And it will not leave without the damage. Without that first taste of your fear or despair or obedience to their twisted chant of your worthlessness.

And the _other you_  will always get what it wants. Because it IS YOU. Because  it knows your every damn move, every damn trick, every damn thought, every damn secret, every damn lie.

You will try to shield but it will sneak from behind.

You will try to punch but there will be suddenly no strength.

You will try to yell but it will crawl on you and whisper the words wrapped in the daggers.

And everything will hurt because those words are true. Because those words are the ones buried inside you, deep deep down but IN YOU.

And you will hear the sickening truth about YOU weaving around, with tightening clutches that are armored with thorns that will start sink into your skin. Slowly injecting with poison.

And you will go down because the _other you_ will shut down the other truth of your better half and you will not hear their pleas to stay strong because it’s this damn time of the year when all your guard is down or crushed or crumpled or hanging in the several meters from you because you thought you could handle the world.

That you are safe.

 

(you are never safe)

 

You will try to escape. To another realm where you can catch a breath. To a place where you think you are safe.

But it’s this damn time of the year and all the things that gave you strength will reverse their impact and you will be hit by the blurred reasons and shadowed surroundings.

You will try to watch something – your favourite concert or VCR or any interview – anything that gave you the unbroken ground, a belief that people can fight anything and can rely on each other at any time.

And here the _other you_ will emerge scorching your channels to gather strength and motivation from them.

“ _Look at them! They are lucky to find each other and be each other’s pillar. Ready to face the worst and fight for together. They will be even saving each other from themselves if it is necessary because that’s the bond and trust you form and nurture through the years. They will come and lend a hand to drag the other from the darkness no matter what. So beautiful… and now look at you… alone… no one to help… no one will come for you… and you know fully well that you will fall and be my prisoner… because there is no Yunho for your Changmin… and no Changmin for your Yunho…”_  

And you fall. And fall. And fall. And every time you hit lower and lower.

Because _yourself_ knows your every defense and sprints through it. It dashes in and starts its monologue.

And you scream and twist and beg and plead and deny.

But your most hideous thoughts, your most rotten wishes, your most venomous prayers, your cruelest words flood your mind and stop your movement, with the intent to search for the mirror and show you the most selfish and horrible creature walking this earth.

This wild chant doesn’t stop for a second and you feel alone even in the crowd. You can’t properly sleep because in the stillness of the night you start fragile attempts to negotiate and _yourself_ is excited to broaden the depths of your pain with the means you supply to it on the verge of losing the grip on your mind.

At the most hurting moments you wish to reach out to your friends. But here you are – miles away from them and the phone calls definitely won’t help.

_“Will facing your friends help though?”_

Whispers the _other you_ and you try to object and imagine the moment when they come to you and tear you from the clutches of the demon inside.

But then you see it clearly as the rise of the sun.

Even if your closest ones are by your side – you will attempt to spill your inner tumor and explain the torture but the words will not come out. The hand of _yourself_ grasping your throat with the force of the beast and never letting you speak.

_“I am only helping you here. You think they will stay by your side if you tell them the whole truth? They will despise you. Besides… why do you think they will care about you and your pathetic soul? Your black nasty soul? You think you are worthy of something? Anything? You thought you were a main character in your story? But the reality is that you are not. Not even a secondary character or a sidekick. You are just a random sticker someone put on the cover of a beautiful book and you are on the edges, trying to get a glimpse of something you will never have. Trying to make yourself believe that you have earned that love and friendship? So… so pathetic…. No. One. Cares. About a hypocrite like you. Wake up and spare them your sick attempts at drawing their attention!”_

During these moments you wish you were dumber, more simple-minded. You saw the people around you living their happy simple life. Those who were raised by the society’s “norms”, who were filled with the minimum of their value to it. They sail through their life fulfilling their biological, financial and work goals. Never stepping aside from the line that the higher-ups outlined for them. Being content with only _this_.

But your mother was a different one. She got to know the world and the boundaries that were never quite there, that every person could bend and give their own shape.

She chose to show this to you too. But only now you get the meaning behind her slightly sad eyes on that day.

She handed to you the key to the outer world – bigger, richer, unforgettable and unpredictably beautiful.

But she knew. The vastness of this world is a double-edged sword. It will give you the wonders and the space for your actions. But if you are not careful or prepared enough – it will turn you into a leaf thrown here and there by the wind. The gravity itself will play its games – either reversing and shoving you up into the sky where you will start suffocating or press you into the ground right to the earth’s core where the heat will burn you alive.

And every time you think that _dumber_ is better.

Only now you have no choice.

And every fight is harder than the previous one because _yourself_ is always growing with you. It becomes sharper, wittier and more merciless with the attacks it develops as soon as you grow yourself. And the battles are ferocious, leaving you on the group with the cuts everywhere from _your truths_.

 _Yourself_ diligently stitching the open wounds with blunt needles, stabbing you here and there because it is “rather clumsy”. It gets up to fetch you some water, “accidently” stepping onto your broken bones. It tries to calm your feverish mind down, “gently” stroking your purpled skin.

It waits for your surrender.

And here is where it is always _wrong._

Because there is no white flag on your side.

Because you are not a fucking mannequin to toss around.

Because though it is cunning and merciless and looks as if about to end you – it will never be able to do that.

Because it is still a part of YOU. And you are not a fucking quitter.

 

There ARE these times of the year. When the _other you_ comes and owns you but it is never for long and never forever.

Because you fucking love this difficult heatless bitch of a life. Because it is fucking beautiful outside which makes you beautiful inside too and you are not ever wasting a chance to breathe, to walk, to listen, to dream and to love.

So when this _other you_ comes – you know that you have to fight no matter what.

That it will still draw your blood. That it will still break your bones.

But it is YOU and you are IT.

And you will take ITS bones to replace your broken ones. And they will be stronger because they were forged in your thunder and their storm. And they will never break under the pressure of the outer world because there is only one enemy that can do damage to that.

And IT will appear during some time of the year.

And IT will sing its devilish song.

And though there is no Yunho for your Changmin, and no Changmin for your Yunho – you will still survive.

Because when it comes for your soul and twists its knife for the hundredths time you will smile and let it play its usual game. While you are stronger from just one acceptance.

I will be my own Yunho for my Changmin, and my own Changmin for my Yunho.

And may you come and torture me at any damn time of any damn year.

I will live long and see a day when the first blood will be spilled on _your_ part and not mine.

So crawl out of your well and let’s fight.

 


End file.
